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Have to admit that this one felt a bit odd and disjointed to me, but here goes: Ken, backed up by Harry and Sal (Pete, natch, is not on this account, given what happened last week) wants to use Ann-Margret in Bye Bye Birdie as an inspiration for a campaign to sell the newly-created Diet Pepsi, which has a "working" name of "Patio" at this point. Peggy isn't too jazzed about the concept, finding it vapid and sexist, but the boys are all, "Pish posh, girlie." When will they ever learn? The boys' lack of confidence in her, however, leads Peggy to do an Ann-Margret imitation in front of a mirror, and how much does Elisabeth Moss rule? The day, Peggy shows Bye Bye Birdie to Don, complaining that the ad idea targets men rather than the actual potential consumers of the product, but Don is unmoved, much to her dismay. On a whim, she stops off at a crowded bar and tries ditzing it up so boys will like her, and soon she's fooling around with a fetus, albeit a relatively nice one. Meanwhile, some grass and a woman (it is not what you think) seem to convince Don that maybe Peggy was right after all.
Pete has Paul with him to create that campaign to counter the negative image around the demolition of Penn Station, which turns out to be an issue when Paul expresses sympathy for the other side in front of the clients. Meanwhile, Joan (that's Mrs. Harris to you!) compliments Betty on her pregnancy when she shows up to SC, and mentions that she and Greg will be trying (again?) after he (hopefully?) makes Chief Resident at the beginning of July. Don and Betty then go out to dinner with Pryce and his wife Rebecca, which does nothing to improve Betty's already-foul mood -- you see, Gloria left her father, and she's worried about him, so she's going to have her brother and his wife bring him up. Don's not thrilled, but he doesn't have much choice in the matter. Also, Pryce announces to the senior partners that they lost a big account, and London isn't happy, so they'd better rustle up some new business, and he sends Don and Roger out to clean up the mess that Paul and Pete (mostly Paul) made with the Madison Square Garden people. Mona, Roger's ex, and Roger's daughter Margaret show up to the office to discuss seating arrangements for the wedding, but Margaret doesn't want Jane to come at all, not that Roger really pays her any mind. At the client lunch, Don expresses disdain for Roger's problems before the client show ups and falls under Don's hypnotic spell, although he does make it clear that Paul is not to be allowed within miles of their campaign. Pryce then turns up and tells Don that London is pulling their involvement from MSG, as they don't see it as a long-term moneymaker of an account. Looks like they all have vision as bad as Pryce's.
Don's presence at the lunch sticks the very pregnant Betty alone with her in-laws and children, and she gets the lowdown from her brother that he wants to put Gene, the dad, into a facility. Betty is not so much having that, though, thinking that her brother just wants to take over their ancestral home, which she tells him to his face, kind of awesomely. However, when William informs her that the other option is for him to move in with Gene and have his wife take care of him, Betty gets upset, so Don takes William aside and informs him in no uncertain terms that Gene will be living with them while he, William, supports him financially and leaves Gene's house untouched. William reads Don well enough to know not to argue, and soon he's announcing to Gene that he'll be staying chez Draper for the foreseeable future. It doesn't take long for Gene to start acting all crazypants, though. It's the side of dementia the tourists never see.
Want more? The full recap starts right below! As might have come across in the recaplet, I found this episode a bit harder to parse than most, but now I think I know why: On the surface, it seems to be an examination of the different characters' openness or lack thereof to change, which is a fitting subject on which to spend an episode, given what's coming not just in November 1963 but through the rest of the decade. But I'm not sure the idea is consistently executed or explored. Maybe you'll see what I mean if I just get into it......so we open with a minute or so of Bye Bye Birdie, which is ironic since it seemed like Ann-Margret was the one doing all the hooting and warbling. Just so I don't forget to acknowledge it, though, if you think of Betty's childhood nickname, the song title is significant on a whole different level, because there's no truer goodbye to childhood things than the day you have to care for your own parent. When the lights then come on in the SC conference room, Sal marvels at how he saw Susan Watson do the role on Broadway, "but she didn't have that." Sight unseen and sound unheard, I'll agree. Ken lets everyone (Harry, Sal, and Peggy are in attendance) know that while they won't actually be using Ann-Margret, their new ad campaign is meant to be a "frame by frame" reproduction. Peggy: "So...something about how desperate she is for a Pepsi?" Hee. It doesn't look as cutting on the page, but trust me, Elisabeth Moss's particular delivery of "desperate" would have made Miss --Margret cry. Ken, however, informs them that while Pepsi is the client, the product is actually a diet version to help women "reduce." Is it called "Diet Pepsi," you ask, a measure of playful knowing in your voice? No, no it isn't, and I'd like for both our sakes to leave it at that. But I'm contractually forced to tell you that the name of the new product is "Patio," although when it first aired I thought it might have been "Paddy-O," which would have been more interesting if no better advised. Ken announces his desire to have the campaign be great so he can end up "at lunch with Pepsi," and he may not be giving in to hating Pete but he certainly seems to be taking the prospect of beating him seriously enough. Harry declares his intentions to get the only jollies he's allowed these days by coming to Casting (I'm paraphrasing), but Peggy asks if they're really going straight to that step, her tone conveying she is most displeased indeed. Harry gives Peggy a bit of attitude (he really has let his new position go to his head, no?), so she volleys back that it's obvious why he likes the ad (off camera, Sal shifts uncomfortably before remembering what a mensch Don can be), but it's not for him -- she's the one that would be buying Patio. She obviously is referring to the fact that she's a woman, but Harry condescendingly replies, "You're not fat anymore." Wow. That's not just obnoxious, it's obnoxious in a very specifically sexist manner. If she were one of the boys, she'd be allowed to send a jibe back, and besides, it wouldn't have been meant in the same cutting way. But here, her choices are to respond and look overly emotional or swallow her pride and take the comment. I, however, am not bound by these rules, so I'll say this: Dick. Anyway, Peggy channels her feelings into her work, announcing that they can say as a hypothetical that they won't be able to get the company to change the name (I love the unstated assumption that everyone's in agreement that it's awful) and that they'll also be able to find a model "who can match Ann-Margret's ability to look twenty-five and act fourteen." Sal almost hits Paul Lynde territory in replying, "Is that what she's doing?" Yes, it is, which is the only reason you can deal with it, honey. Take a look at your wife sometime. Given that, Peggy asks, can they treat it with a bit of parody and make fun of it, at least? Ken snots that Peggy shouldn't be a prude, as Ann-Margret's sexy. Lord, she is not, Ken. She's what a fourteen-year-old girl, and not a particularly precocious one, might think is sexy, which is why Peggy couldn't be more right, as usual. Ken adds that it's what the client wants, prompting Peggy to point out that clients don't always know best. Ken: "Well, when we land them, you can start talking to them that way." So, you want me to start rooting for Pete, then?
The morning, Betty discovers they're out of melba toast, prompting Don to snit at her she should eat something more substantive anyway. Not really listening, Betty speculates that Carla had some, because Betty would have thrown the empty box away if she'd been the one to finish it. Don is not interested in the Mystery of the Missing Melba, however, instead giving Betty shade for apparently spending too much on a decorator for the imminent child's nursery, I think. After a promise to the kids that some boring shopping the day will be followed by a trip to Carvel, Don's out of there, leaving me to wonder if that scene could possibly have been cut.
Back at SC, Pete is introducing Paul to the Madison Square Garden team as the man who authored the campaign "to ease the way for the Ravenswood nuclear power facility." The MSG guys don't seem offended that their campaign to tear down Penn Station is being equated with something as unpopular as nuclear power, which suggests they're rather savvy businessmen indeed. Paul then produces several pieces of the opposing side's propaganda, including one that reads "Rape on 34th Street," but the eldest of the guys (a total H!ITG! who normally plays bit military parts) dismisses all the headlines as the work of one New York Times writer he describes as "an angry woman with a big mouth." This guy's going to love Bella Abzug. One of the other MSG guys says she's trying to sell papers by making people miserable, prompting Pete to pipe up that his "great-great-grandfather, Silas Dyckman" (give it a rest, Pete) would have turned his boat around if he had known that the city would one day be filled with crybabies." And where would he have steered his boat if he'd been able to foresee your pouting visage last episode? Anyway, Paul suddenly, if predictably and pompously, says he doesn't think it's lunacy to "be attached to a Beaux Arts masterpiece through which Teddy Roosevelt came and went." Why is it that I agree with the sentiment, yet I want to brain Paul with a big stick? Working himself up into a lather, Paul continues that the greatest Roman ruins today are in Greece and Spain, because the Romans tore all theirs down, and when he adds that he's a Times reader, the MSG guys catch on and belligerently ask what his problem is. Rather than provide a list, Pete tries to salvage the situation by likening Paul to one of those "snide ad men you see in the movies," but the lead MSG guy dismisses Paul as a "beatnik," and adds, "This is the greatest city in the world. If you don't like it, leave." I'm surprised that neither Pete nor Paul bothered mentioning that Paul now lives in New Jersey. Also, on the one hand, the fact that beatniks were on their way out at this point combined with his attachment to Penn Station seems meant to suggest that Paul is one of those resistant to change, but...this is a guy who had a black girlfriend in 1962. Not only that, I think it's fair to say that history has judged the MSG guys to be the myopic, small-minded ones, whereas people like Paul who foresaw the need to preserve landmarks have been deemed progressive, so...it's not really clear to me what the episode is trying to say here. Anyway, when the MSG guys are gone, Pete points out that Paul didn't have any moral objections to "an atom plant on the East River," but Paul replies that it's Penn Station, and the city should have a bit more memory and respect. As you're probably aware, the demolition of the old Penn Station led to the formation of the NYC Landmarks Preservation Commissi
on, so as I mentioned, it's not like Paul is just being, well, a beatnik about the whole thing, but Pete's unimpressed, blithely warning Paul he's going to have to fill Don in on what happened. Less sure of his defiant stand when the specter of Don the Dad Figure is invoked, Paul tries to say that the clients will trust him more when he turns around and helps them, but Pete channels his great-great-grandfather Silas Dyckman and disdainfully replies, "Do you ever listen to yourself?" Look who you're asking, Pete. Would you?
Betty's striding into the office, flanked by Joan, who compliments her on how well she's "carrying." Rather than extol the virtues of melba toast and remind herself to fire Carla, Betty dismisses it as "smoke and mirrors." Half right. Joan says it makes her optimistic, because come the first of July "when [her husband Greg]'s Chief Resident, I'd better watch out." I take it no one disagrees with that last part. Don's secretary (no idea of her name yet) approaches and greets Betty, and Joan suggests she get Betty a glass of water, but Betty pipes up, "Why don't you first tell me how long I'm going to be here?" Well, Betty, if you're going to be that strident, you might as well lead with "Belay that order!" Come on, how often in your life do you get the opportunity to say it?
Anyway, Betty will be around for a bit, it seems, as her husband, as well as Roger and Bertram, are just now coming in to see Pryce. Pryce thanks them for coming, to which Bertram grumps, "Didn't you just call us all into your office?" Seems like the polite thing to do would be not to call attention to it. Pryce informs them that Campbell's UK has sacked them, to which Bertram responds that it's an ad agency, and he doesn't want to walk down there every time they lose an account. "I'll wear out the carpet." Bertram, I would certainly miss you, but retirement is a viable option here. You certainly qualify both in age and crotchetiness. When he's gone, Pryce goes on that the root of the problem is that they never had a meeting with the American arm of Campbell's, to which Roger replies, "Perhaps I should drag Burt Peterson in and fire him again." Considering the scene he caused? Yes. Yes you should. Anyway, that comment is indicative of both Roger's and Don's investment in the conversation, so Pryce gives it up as a bad job, saying there's no need to fret as long as they get some new business. He's then informed that his wife is waiting, and asks Don for five minutes, so that explains why Betty's there...
...if not why Joan and the secretary are hovering over her. No, they're employing some old wives' tricks to figure out the baby's gender, but they disperse when Roger and Don appear, with the former greeting Betty thusly: "Oh, look, Princess Grace just swallowed a basketball." Betty returns the greeting coldly, probably out of disapproval of Roger throwing over Mona as he did, although the basketball comment can't have helped, and then she and Don leave Roger and Joan to exchange awkward (Roger's) and fake (Joan's) smiles. Joan walks away first, and Roger calls after her, "Good night, Mrs. Harris." Elsewhere, as they walk out, Betty informs Don, "I'm in a foul mood." Probably less dangerous now that she's learned to express such feelings.
At dinner, Mrs. Pryce, the toity to Pryce's hoity, compliments the wine and their "furnished flat" on Sutton Place, adding that it's near the U.N., "so there are plenty of Africans." Might as well joke about the few colonies you have left. After a canned toast from Pryce about improving with age, he tells them "Rebecca" was wondering if they had any recommendations for schools, but Betty confesses she's a bit out of touch when it comes to the city. Maybe she could ask Captain Retro Awesome. Preferably while naked. Rebecca asks how long they've been together, and Betty responds that it's been nine years while Don answers ten. One wonders if it's because to Don, it seems like longer, or if instead Betty's marking off the time they were separated. Maybe both. Pryce then mentions that "J. Walter Thompson" is opening an office in Caracas, but Don sharply opines that the ladies don't want to talk about that, in a "we'll discuss this later" tone that throws the relationships at the table into confusion, at least for me. Dinner is then served...
In the car, Don "apologizes" by way of grousing that he didn't want to be at the dinner any more than Betty did, and she somewhat resignedly replies, "It was just the cherry on top of my sundae." I congratulate her on correctly employing a reference that's so obviously foreign to her. Don snaps that she should just tell him what's bothering her now instead of "three seconds after [he's] dozed off," and he's being awfully brusque but I have to grant that that habit would wear thin in a hurry. Betty tells Don that she's been trying to get her father Gene on the phone for a while, and she just found out from her brother William that Gloria, the second wife, left him. Don, in a more conciliatory tone at least, asks Betty if she can blame her, but of course Betty can: "She came into his life, he suddenly takes ill and she abandons him." Don replies that maybe she realized he's a "son of a bitch," and the particular way Betty chooses not to argue the point suggests to me that she doesn't exactly disagree, but she does say she's worried about him, and since she can't take a long car trip in her condition, she's going to have William and his wife Judy bring Gene up to them that weekend. Don grumps that William and Judy's girls are a nightmare, and wonders why Betty even bothered asking him. Well...she didn't, so much. That was kind of the point. There's definitely a new dynamic in their relationship -- she certainly seems to have forgiven him, but she no longer perceives herself as inferior to him in the relationship, it seems to me. Betty notes that the baby is really kicking, and Don wisely does not suggest it's because the child is just as unpsyched about the in-laws coming to visit as he is. He was thinking it, though.
In his office, Roger is informed that his "family" is there, and after he gives the okay, Mona and Margaret enter. Excuse me while I grab some popcorn and Raisinets. Margaret greets her dad awkwardly, while Mona merely settles into a chair and accepts an offer of sherry, despite the fact it's only 10:30, as Margaret is at pains to point out. Roger is partaking as well as Margaret informs him she asked her fiancé Brooks to come late to avoid embarrassment. Roger asks if the social discomfort has to do with the fact that he's paying for everything, but Mona, rather blithely, informs him that it's actually about Jane. She takes the relatively-good-cop role as she adds that she's suggested a compromise to Margaret in regard to the seating (this time, referring to Jane as "June," heh) but Margaret isn't so much on board with that: "I didn't want to go to her wedding, but I did. The least she can do is not come to mine." She adds that seeing Jane on her wedding day will ruin the whole thing. "She's young enough to be my sister. How does it look?" Well, it depends on your perspective. Or lack thereof, which is why asking Roger that question is probably futile. Brooks then arrives, not nearly late enough to avoid any embarrassment, and the way he warmly greets Mona as "Mom" before stiffly shaking Roger's hand is probably all you need to know about where his loyalties lie. They then segue into the invitations, and Roger gives his opinion on which one to choose before musing: "November 23rd. I'll tell Jane." Given what's going to happen on November 22nd, you might as well not bother. No church is going to be able to accommodate you, for sure and certain. Which reminds me of one of my favorite moments from last season, Joan warning Roger in the wake of Marilyn Monroe's death: "One day, you'll lose someone who's important to you. You'll see. It's very painful."
I wonder if we know when that's going to be?
Pryce comes in to tell Don how wonderfully charming Betty is and how much she lifted Rebecca's spirits. Don's lifetime of practice at lying once again comes in handy as he agrees that they really hit it off, and then Pryce continues that he'd like Don to go make nice with the MSG people, with Roger in tow. Don is roughly as thrilled about this as he is about the family coming to visit, but he also has as little choice, so he tells Pryce to have Pete send over the folder. Hopefully Pete will remember to remove any traces of all the times he doodled "Mr. Peter Draper" inside.
A gaggle of giggling kids (I think it's Sally, Bobby, and two girls who must belong to William and Judy) cause me to reach for the Excedrin before they thankfully head upstairs, leaving Betty to offer the lunch she fixed. However, Gene, starting to distribute the contents of a paper bag, says they went to "Pat's Steaks," and he even got Gloria a chicken parm. William: "Great. We'll mail it to her." Heh. Betty looks askance at him, but William is unfazed, loudly announcing that Gloria's in Boca and isn't coming back before opining to Betty that Gene understands and is just playing it up. Betty asks her dad how the drive was, and he basically says that since they took "the Lincoln," it was awesome. Betty smiles, but when Judy offers to serve his food to him, her face falls, all, "He's my daddy and you can't have him!" I'd be a lot more interested in the sandwich.
Peggy exits a meeting and pauses to take note of Joan holding court in front of a group of men; she tells a joke about riding the crowded subway, and the guys laugh uproariously. Peggy observes this, possibly wondering how she's having such trouble breaking into the world of men when they're all such idiots. However, after she observes them watch Joan go like their necks are all attached to the same string, she allows a sly smile to cross her face. Again, I'm not quite getting it -- Joan's always been popular with men in a very stylish and sophisticated way, so for Peggy to take an offhand comment from her as the inspiration to suddenly start acting like Ann-Margret seems rather forced, and it's not like some light flirtation on Joan's part gives much insight into her relative capacity for change either. Still: More Joan and Peggy, please.
Roger shows up to the restaurant late, although not as late as the clients, and Don somewhat disdainfully asks what the hell else he even has to do that day. "What else do you have to do all week?" Heh. Roger bitches about his familial situation, but then sighs, "I made my bed, I should lie in it, right?" I'd imagine that was kind of the point of marrying a girl barely out of college, yes. There's a bit of a questioning tone in his voice, though, like he's wondering whether Don's still mad at him, and Don, a hard edge in his voice, replies, "Your words, not mine." Asked and answered! Roger nods, but chooses not to engage Don here, instead bitching that it's all Mona's fault. "All of a sudden I could give two craps about that wedding. All I want to do is win." Before Don can express further disapproval (and it's duly noted that it would be easier to get fully behind him were we unaware that he's still cheating), their meeting arrives, and it's just the oldest guy (Ed Raffitt is his name), which strikes me as a little odd since he seemed the most put off by Paul. He literally isn't even going to sit down until Roger cajoles him into it, so I'm thinking Don's going to need some Kodak-level inspiration here, particularly after Roger makes a joke about Yetta Wallenda that has "too soon" written all over it. Don takes the reins and, after ascertaining that the demolition plan's detractors can't stop it from going forward, points out that the guilty conscience they're betraying with their concern over public opinion isn't doing them any good. He goes on that change is neither good nor bad, but merely is, and it can be greeted with terror, by throwing a tantrum about wanting things the way they were, or with joy, with a dance that celebrates the new. It's a good speech and in fact lays out the main theme of the episode -- exploring the characters' different responses to change -- but thanks to SNL all I can see now when Don makes one of the speeches is that damned hula hoop with the straps. However, he continues, "If you don't like what is being said, change the conversation," and when the guy reaches for a menu, they know they've got him even as he asks what that conversation is. Don brings up his trip to California, saying that it's clean and new and hopeful (and broke!), while New York is in decay. "Madison Square Garden is the beginning of a new city on a hill." So the Felt Forum was an ugly suburb? The guy tells Don if he comes to SC, he doesn't want "that kid" on his account. He could just as easily be talking about Pete as Paul, but when he clarifies, "The Communist. The radical," Don says he'll handle it personally. I have to admit I thought this meant Paul was getting the Burt Peterson treatment, but then I wondered: Does he even have a Rolodex?
Judy leads Gene into the TV room and announces to the kids that he's going to watch his program now. She flips the channel to baseball, and then heads into the living room to join the other adults. Betty starts by saying that Gene seems well, but reproaches William for apparently having been unaware for some period of time that Gloria was gone and Gene was alone. William tells her Gene lied to him for a while because he was ashamed, and while Judy has been successful in getting through to him, he's angry and "in and out." He suggests a nursing home halfway between them they could put Gene in, and adds that he and Judy would even sell their house to pay for it. Betty, however, sees right through her brother (although I didn't transcribe it when I recapped it, her comment to him that he should "Stop counting other people's money" was in the previouslies, a sentiment that was echoed last week when Don opined William "never tires of putting his name on other people's things") and accuses him of scheming to get his hands on their parents' house. Judy is so horrified that she has to leave the room, but it's not like William denies it as he asks what, then, the solution is. You probably will not be surprised that at Minute 25 they do not resolve this question.
When Don arrives home, he finds the TV still on but just giving static, and I think we can guess who forgot to turn it off. Indeed, Don finds Gene still awake in the living room, and Gene, referring to the fact that he's going to be sleeping on the couch, thanks Don for the "ritzy accommodations." Don, however, points out that Gene is an Army man: "Drop your socks and...grab something." Heh. Gene laughs, but Don doesn't join in, opting instead to withdraw...
...and head upstairs, where he finds Betty reading. He compliments her for achieving lights out so early, as it's only 8:15, but she replies by upbraiding him for bringing his sooty coat into the bedroom. Guessing where her mood is coming from, Don sits on the bed and asks how bad Gene is, but Betty seethes that he's not the problem. "What am I saying -- he's the whole problem. That and William's never-ending bullshit." Betty! Do you kiss your mother...er, your father...um, I think I see what's going on here. She repeats her opinion that William wants the house, and speculates that Judy might be pushing Gene along the path to senility. After opening the door to bark at the kids, Don asks Betty
what she wants to do, apparently a little too gruffly, as she asks how he can talk to her that way, given the condition she's in. If they didn't set her up to say that line with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of wine in the other on purpose, I will be sorely disappointed. She orders Don to stay in the room with her rather than go downstairs to belatedly hang up his coat, and I can only imagine that once she loses her pregnancy weight she's going to be wearing pants quite often.
Ha! William and Judy are being forced to sleep in bunk beds. It's a cheap laugh, but I'll take it. William says it's funny how Betty's being, given that she and Gene used to fight all the time, and adds that he cares about family too. "You know, Don had nobody at their wedding. Nobody." This comment echoes the deep mistrust Gene expressed toward Don last season, as long as you've got your resentments scorecard out. Speaking of which, Judy asks why they can't just move in with Gene so she can take care of him, but William crabs that it's bad enough working for him. "I'm a thirty-year-old man. I don't want to have somebody tell me I have the wrong tie on." Forget what I said about a cheap laugh -- it's the bunk beds that make it art.
Dressed for bed, Peggy's hanging her delicates to dry; she then takes a brush and diffidently works on her hair as she goes to the mirror. After a moment, though, she turns a shoulder and starts doing her best Ann-Margret, singing what words she knows of Bye Bye Birdie with all the attendant vapid smiling and hair-tossing and general prepubescent vamping, and Elisabeth Moss's instincts are just consistently so brilliant that it almost seems like I'm doing her a disservice to go on and on about them. I mean, I've heard so much about District 9 at this point that it's almost sure to turn out to be a disappointment, probably through no fault of its own. Anyway, Peggy goes right back to brushing her hair, which is a welcome reminder that Ann-Margret can be turned off just as easily as she's turned on.
In Don's office, there's a meeting going on about the new MSG account, and surprisingly, Don tells Paul that although he has to keep a low profile, he'll still be working on it. This decision is rendered moot, however, when Pryce enters and asks to speak to Don privately. When they're alone, he informs Don that London feels that the staff requirements necessary to service MSG outweigh the potential benefits, especially given that the place is unlikely to open for at least two years. Don tries to argue that MSG will be their gateway to the World's Fair, "the largest trade show in history" (and held in New York City in 1964), not to mention the hotels, concerts, and sports that will be affiliated with the place. "This could mean thirty years of business!" Pryce gently says London isn't interested, prompting Don to take his head off for not even checking with them first. "Why the hell did you buy us in the first place?" Pryce, taking a long, regretful moment to really contemplate the question: "I don't know." Again, not sure this really lands -- is the only point that Don's a visionary? I mean, I don't find the reaction of the distant overlords-come-lately of any interest whatsoever, especially in the context of American social change, and Don's getting enough screen time devoted to his sensibilities in this episode. It's possible we're meant to conclude that Pryce is starting to break with his bosses' way of thinking, but for a character that was just introduced last episode it's a little difficult to say. Anyway, Don, no happier with that answer than Pryce is, opens the door in lieu of being all "I. Said. Good. DAY!" When Pryce is gone, Don bites out to his secretary that she can tell Pete MSG is dead, and then Peggy, who's been waiting, inquires if he has a second. Don roughly asks if it can wait, but Peggy, mistaking his sharp tone as a lack of respect for her as a woman rather than the "Now's a bad time to get me on your side" it is, says no, so Don shows her in. She presents the storyboards for the ad, and after slamming the name, Don confesses he doesn't get it, not having seen Bye Bye Birdie...
...so then we're in the conference room getting borderline screeched at again. Don, however, doesn't see it that way, saying that the pure way Ann-Margret throws herself at the camera "makes your heart hurt." I'll agree with him if I can add the words "not in a good way." Peggy repeats her assertion that the ad isn't targeting the user, but Don disagrees, saying that she's projecting the image of being happy that she drinks Patio, and the truth is that "men want her, and women want to be her." As I said, not in a good way. Peggy tries one more time to convince him, but Don ends the meeting: "You're not an artist, Peggy. You solve problems. Leave some tools in your toolbox." Peggy stands stock still as Don leaves the room...
...but on the elevator down at the end of the day, Roger catches her and asks her opinion as a "young girl," prefacing his question with this: "You're the only one around here who doesn't have that stupid look on her face." How quickly he forgets Mrs. Harris. Peggy asks what he's getting at, so he inquires what her father would have to do to make her not want him at her wedding. Peggy confesses that her father passed away, to which Roger replies, "There you go. You'd do anything." Roger of course means that she, like most girls, would love to have her father at her wedding, but Peggy looks at him like she's wondering if he's drunk. Honey, he was drunk when it was five o'clock somewhere, not just here.
In Brooklyn, Peggy gets off the subway. She walks past the entrance to a crowded and lively watering hole, and stops in front of the window. Moments later, she's checked her coat and has made it to the bar. Uncharacteristically, she's friendly to some guys, even repeating Joan's little comparison about the place being so crowded it's like the subway. The two guys she's talking to laugh, and one of them asks where her drink is. She refrains from replying "Up your butt," which is too bad because that response looks age-appropriate for him.
Don arrives home to find William furiously plunging the kitchen sink; upon seeing him, William smiles that it's all under control. Heh. The kids are watching TV, Gene's at the kitchen table, and Judy's setting places in the dining room. Don heads for the stairs to see Betty but meets her on her way down: "I'm going out for a bucket of chicken." Boy, when she decides to eat, she doesn't fool around. Don asks what's wrong, and Betty tells him she's a horrible daughter; William informed her that the only options are to put Gene in a home or for him and Judy to move into chez Hofstadt. Don does not need to hear any more, and he calls William's name out in a tone that sounds a little more reproving than the one for telling him he's got the wrong tie on. Moments later, the two of them are in Don's study, and Don doesn't drag it out so there's no reason for me to: He informs William what's going to happen, which is that William is going to support Gene financially while Don takes Gene into his house, and the Hofstadt ancestral home will remain untouched. Also, William will tell Betty that this is what he wants: "We'll pretend that you did the right thing on your own." William does raise his voice a little in response, but his little tempest in a teapot doesn't even register with Don, as he adds that William will be leaving the Lincoln. "New York Central, Broadway Limited from Penn Station. It leaves in two hours." He fails to add that if he's late, they'll be demolishing the station around him, but after a signature Don Draper display of virility I doubt William's going to dawdle.
Outside, Don sits at the kitchen table with Gene, finally having some "people," as, without sound, we see William explain the situation to Betty. Betty turns to Don in silent gratitude, and Don favors her with an almost imperceptible smile. William, Betty, and Judy then enter the kitchen, and Betty tells him she and Don want him to live with them for a while. Gene isn't thrilled, even after Judy tries to comfort him: "I should have been the first to go." Yikes. I mean, I doubt anyone there would disagree, but still. William runs off to help the girls pack, and he's rushing just like I predicted. In fairness, though, he's got to be psyched about getting away from those bunk beds.
Peggy's settled into a booth with the one guy, who looks like he started shaving halfway through Season Two. He sloppily chomps on a burger as he tells her he's just about to graduate from Brooklyn College, and he started prelaw but switched to engineering. Peggy is doing a good job of staying engaged in a conversation with someone she normally wouldn't be caught dead talking to, brightly noting that the two tracks he's been on are very different. She goes on that she works for an ad agency, and he replies, "I don't know how you girls do all that typing!" Peggy looks like she's considering telling him how it really is, but instead decides to channel her feelings from earlier in the day: "I work for a jerk!" Heh. Some of the guy's friends then come up and engage him in a "clever" exchange, the point of which is to let Peggy know that he lives right around the corner, wink wink nudge nudge. The guy looks embarrassed, but all Peggy does is grab the burger out of his hand and take a big playful bite. He smiles and tells her she's funny, and the only reason she doesn't stick her shoulder out like Ann-Margret is that she's got the guy in the bag already.
Sure enough, when we return, we see that Peggy and the guy have retired to his place, ginormous even by TV standards for a dorm room, and they're making out horizontally on the couch. Peggy takes a moment to inhale and then ask if he has a "Trojan," so apparently Peggy finally engaging in confession at the end of last season was no reason to think she'd turn back into a good Catholic girl. Anyway, the guy despondently says no, sensing this could mean the end of his heretofore-very-lucky evening, but although she understandably draws the line at anything that could get her pregnant again, she offers, "There are other things we could do." Make your own joke about tools and toolboxes here.
Betty's awakened by the sounds of distant sirens and some louder noises from downstairs, and she gets Don up; cut to the two of them stumbling into the kitchen and, bleary-eyed and bewildered, finding Gene emptying some liquor bottles out into the sink. He tells them that the heat is on, and they have to get rid of the stuff, and in response, Betty wordlessly (and kind of hilariously) exits, either to fall back into bed or to vomit. Don, for his part, purses his lips all, "When I made my grand speech earlier about taking you into my home, I was thinking I'd have lots of booze around for when you went off the rails." Oh, the best-laid plans.
Peggy manages to extricate herself from the guy's foldout bed without anyone losing an arm, but he wakes up before she can make a clean getaway. She tells him she has to work the day, and when he asks if she'd like to get breakfast, points out that it's the middle of the night. That's the best (and only) time to go to Denny's, girl! Again angling to see her again, he asks where she works, but she again vagues, "Madison Avenue." Sensing that that's a bit large an area to count on a chance meeting, he tells her he hangs out at the bar at which they met a lot, but her fake nod in response suggests she won't be looking for him again. Guy, she'd probably reconsider if you promise never to ask her her name. Anyway, before she goes, she at least tells him it was fun, and seems to mean it, but the Ann-Margret impression is over. THANK GOD.
Cut to a field in which numerous folding chairs have been set up. A woman with a floral garland on her head welcomes the assembled parents to "Field Day" -- more specifically, they're doing a maypole dance. A kid reads from cards about the origins and significance of the celebration, mentioning that it's Ossining's sesquicentennial, and then the dance begins. Folk-y music begins play to, but it fades as the music of Don's Getting An Idea kicks up, and he focuses on the teacher as she slides the hula hoop's straps over her...damn, it happened again. No, he reaches down to feel the grass as he observes the teacher frolic in slow motion, and this is truly ambiguous to me -- are we just seeing further emphasis that he's truly open to new things? Or is there a more specific tie-in to his views of feminine sexuality? Regardless...
...after the dance, Don tells Sally she was great, and then the Draper family, including Gene, has a picture taken...
...and when Don enters the office the day, he regards Peggy like, perhaps, he's seeing someone new. After returning his long look, she comes out, asking if he wants to talk about Pampers, and they sit down in his office before we cut to black.
week: It looks good.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.